Secrets Only the Stars Know (but maybe you should, too)
by cheshcat13
Summary: Seven years after confessing their feelings to one another and deciding to just be friends, Midoriya and Todoroki are roommates. After an eventful morning, Todoroki sits on the roof and contemplates the promise he couldn't keep. Lots of angst and a very happy ending.


Stars shine bright in heterochromatic eyes. Deep grey-brown and bright blue stare unseeing into the night sky. Dark clouds are drifting in from the East, but all Shouto can see are shades of green obscured by heavy lashes, eyes so bright they rival the stars and nearly outshine the sun. Eyes that remind him of the promise he hadn't been able to keep.

It's morning, or was, before the roof had called to him and the stars had begged for his secrets, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, deep and rich and warm, draws him from his room. This morning, just like the rest they share when their busy hero schedules allow them a moment's rest, he finds Izuku, his roommate and best friend, dancing in the kitchen. Omelets sizzle in pans and a voice in a box trills notes of optimism. Watching him, an old, familiar feeling wells in Shouto's chest, and, before he locks it away again, he relishes in its comfort.

Izuku is in front of him now, offering him a mug, steam rising from it in thick tendrils. Shouto's eyes flicker over scars and gnarled knuckles, reminders of the first time he'd been saved by the hero, as he takes the mug and slides into the nearest stool.

The silence is comfortable, and Shouto's tired eyes follow Izuku while he opens drawers and fills plates. Metal scrapes on tile to his left and then Izuku is sitting next to him, so close Shouto can feel the warmth of Izuku's thigh radiating against his own.

Izuku bubbles over with enthusiasm, shares the morning news, shares his plans for the day, shares his thoughts on a Quirk study he'd read recently. It doesn't matter what he's saying, Shouto is listening, humming in response and interjecting commentary when the time is right. There's unacknowledged yearning in his gaze, but Izuku is too lost in his spoken thoughts to notice, and Shouto doesn't mind, content to be the one lucky enough to hear them.

Morning light shines in through the kitchen window and catches the bright gold flecks in Izuku's eyes, rests on his cheeks and highlights the freckles splattered there. Shouto isn't sure he's ever seen anything so lovely, so full of life, before, and the sight distracts him so that he doesn't realize Izuku has stopped speaking, doesn't notice the peculiar tenderness written on his face.

"Shou, you have…" his voice is trailing off and Shouto is paying attention now, watching curiously as Izuku points at his lips. On instinct, Shouto's tongue darts out and he goes a little cross-eyed as he seeks out whatever it is that has interrupted Izuku.

Despite Izuku's best effort, a chuckle escapes, and there is betrayal in Shouto's eyes when he meets his gaze, but there's humor there, too. There's a blush on Izuku's cheeks, his eyelids squeezed shut as his hand muffles the sound of his giggles and Shouto considers making that face more often if only to see Izuku like this, warm and happy.

Too soon, Izuku sobers, but there is still rice stuck to the corner of Shouto's bottom lip, forgotten in the near-perfect moment. "Here, let me…" Izuku is saying, but Shouto isn't registering the words, too focused on Izuku's hand against his cheek, his thumb swiping gently over his lip.

Shouto can see the blush in Izuku's cheeks darken, can see his eyelids growing heavy so they hang over his eyes, dark lashes framing emerald green and Shouto doesn't have time to stop himself before he's sighing deeply and leaning into the palm that had yet to leave his cheek.

Hours go by, or minutes, or maybe seconds, but it doesn't matter to Shouto, whose mind is somehow empty, whose too far gone to fear the fullness in his chest. Hypnotized by the quiet breaths and curious smiles shared between them, smiles that seemed to ask if this is okay, that seem to say it's all they've ever wanted.

He thinks maybe he should be embarrassed, but he barely registers the voice that begs him to see reason, begs him not to do it, begs him to walk away. Shouto's always been a glutton for punishment when it comes to Izuku. When eyelids close fully over green eyes, when a tongue tentatively licks dry lips, when he is leaning forward all soft curls and pink cheeks and anticipation, Shouto throws reason out the window and follows suit.

So close now he can feel Izuku's breath hot against his lips, his heart thumping so rapidly it threatens to beat right out of his chest and he can't bring himself to care, can't bring himself to worry about what comes next with Izuku so close as though he wants this as much as Shouto always has.

Tentatively the distance between them is shortening and Shouto doesn't attempt to stifle the sigh that escapes when he can feel the heat of Izuku's mouth, the whisper of soft lips against his own.

The obnoxiously loud jingle of Izuku's ringtone breaks the spell, and the two leap apart, panting heavily as they stare at the space between them.

It's Izuku who looks away first and Shouto's eyes follow, landing on the bright screen of the phone on the table. The caller ID reads 'Mom,' and Izuku is bright as a tomato as he picks it up. "Shouto, I…" he begins as though there is anything to say. The phone is still ringing, filling the awkward space with tension. Finally, he settles on, "I should take this," and walks into the living room.

Shouto's breath is caught in his chest as Izuku greets his Mom cheerfully, as though he hadn't been a hair's breadth away from kissing his best friend mere seconds before he'd answered the call.

Guilty and raw, Shouto retreats to his room, ashamed that he's let his emotions get the better of him.

They don't see each other again before Izuku leaves to help his Mom build her new desk. He calls through Shouto's door to let him know he'd be back. Then, quieter and more serious, "Shou, we should talk later."

The tears fall then and Shouto is grateful for their silence as he hears the click of a lock and footsteps fading down the hall.

Once his tears have dried, and long before he expects Izuku to return, Shouto crawls out of the bathroom window and onto the roof. There's a balcony off the living room, but Shouto prefers the roof where the view of city lights and buildings is obscured so that one's attention is always on the sky.

He sits there until the sun falls below the horizon and the moon takes its place, bright and proud in the purple air.

The whole morning had been so domestic, as their lives often are when they aren't busy acting as the number two and four heroes. It's bittersweet for Shouto, as it has always been, and had maybe once been for Izuku. That was many years ago, though, and Izuku always keeps his promises.

It had come up once, when they were sixteen and the feelings were brand new and overwhelming in an entirely different way.

Shouto was the one to say it first, honesty slipping from his lips unbidden as they walked across campus after class. There had been doubt in Izuku's gaze while he confessed his own crush and soon it was doubt that was sitting heavy in the pit of Shouto's stomach.

Maybe that's why he had agreed when Izuku said it wasn't a good idea. Shouto considered himself a logical person, but his heart wasn't interested in logic, and the pain of it shattering, the disappointment of rejection filled Shouto as Izuku explained himself. Between villain attacks, classes, and internships, neither of them had much spare time as it was. It felt irresponsible, he said, to let themselves be distracted by a silly crush when they should be focused on becoming heroes.

Shouto pretended he wasn't dying on the inside at Izuku's words, had nodded his head, agreed that there were more important things. He tried to walk away, to stifle the tears that were beginning to blur his vision, but Izuku's hand held him back, grounded him as though he wasn't the source of his breaking heart.

"I know it's selfish to ask, Todoroki," and his tears were evident in his croaking tone, "but maybe, just this once, can I kiss you?"

Shouto couldn't have refused even if he had wanted to.

They kept their distance for months afterward, pledged to get over their 'silly crushes,' and move on as friends and heroes. If anyone in class noticed the carefully kept space between the two, they were kind enough not to mention it.

Eventually, the awkwardness dissipated enough that Shouto could return to their regular lunch table, come back to the study group, join them on outings.

It was a year before they could hang out without the buffer of their classmates, but, after that, it wasn't long before they fell back into a friendship almost as comfortable as it had been before Shouto's mouth had gotten away from him, exposed his secret, broken his heart.

Try as he might, he never really got over that damn crush.

Instead, he buried it deep, locked it away so that it couldn't get away from him again and push Izuku away for good.

It was Izuku's idea to be roommates, another logical decision as their hero agencies were in the same area and neither could afford to live on their own yet. It hadn't been Shouto's smartest moment, but he couldn't bring himself to refuse, not when hope shone bright and true in a million shades of green.

Seven years went by. Though they could both more than afford a place of their own, neither brought it up. Shouto wouldn't be the one, content to simply be by Izuku's side even if his heart ached, hollow and raw, at times.

A cloud drifts across the sky and obscures the moon, the sight punctuated by a heavy sigh and sharp inhale. His eyes sting, maybe it's because of the chill in the air, or his overwhelming emotions as he waits for Izuku to return home, to tell him he's no longer comfortable being roommates, that Shouto had crossed the line and broken his promise.

Shouto made up his mind a long time ago, and a brief moment of intimacy isn't worth losing the closest friend he's ever had, no matter how much he'd always longed for it.

The sound of Izuku's voice coming from behind him interrupts Shouto's thoughts and nearly sends him tumbling off the roof.

"Radio said it's supposed to rain," he says from the window, and, as if the clouds had heard him, Shouto feels a fat drop hit his hand, another land softly on his cheek. Izuku's voice sounds nervous, and the tone makes Shouto gulp as he continues, "mind taking these?"

Grateful his tears had dried up hours ago, Shouto turns to find Izuku reaching up through the window with two cups of tea, his hair fluffier than normal and a shine on his cheeks that tells Shouto he'd been crying, too.

"Of course," his voice is quiet as he scoots closer to retrieve the mugs, carefully taking them without meeting Izuku's gaze.

Silence hangs heavy between them, a million words on the tips of their tongues, neither knowing where to begin as raindrops fall soft and sporadic from the darkening sky and Izuku crawls through the window to sit cross-legged next to Shouto.

In the end, Shouto is clearing his throat to start just as Izuku says, "Shouto, I lied."

Whatever he was about to say is forgotten as Shouto finally turns his head to find determination staring back at him from watery eyes.

Izuku doesn't wait for him to respond, and Shouto doesn't really know what to say anyway, so he waits as Izuku turns back to the expansive sky, "At UA, when I said it was just a silly crush. I- I lied." His tone is tender as he confesses to the clouds, "I loved you, Shouto, but I was scared, I suppose for all the reasons I said I was. I didn't want to hold you back."

Shouto, for his part, is hanging on every word, the hope that had long ago died when the boy who held his heart kissed him and walked away is back with a vengeance, his heart clenches tight and threatens to leap out as he does his best to hold it at bay.

"I've been so selfish, though," Izuku's voice cracks on the end of the sentence and his chest shudders as he exhales heavily, "keeping you close because I can't bear the thought of losing you, even if…" He pauses and Shouto watches the tears fall down his cheeks, sparkling in the little starlight that remains, mixing with the raindrops that sprinkle lightly from the clouds above, "even if you don't feel that way about me anymore."

The words sting and fill Shouto with shame, as though he hadn't been the one pining for something more. He can't form sentences of his own yet, too surprised that this is what Izuku meant when he said they should talk, so Izuku continues, "I know we promised to get over it, and I tried Shou, I really did, but no matter what I do I can't help but love you."

Love.

Disbelief paints Shouto's face, furrows his brow and slackens his jaw. Izuku still isn't looking at him, "I'm sorry," he sobs and Shouto feels sick at the apology. "I broke our promise."

The sound of Izuku's despair surrounds them and rings in Shouto's ears as the rain grows heavier, threatening to drown them both.

He doesn't notice it though, can't even think as he reaches over and turns Izuku's face to meet his. He wills his eyes to say everything, the words stalled in his throat, as his thumb swipes the tears and rain from Izuku's cheeks. His gaze is pleading, a vulnerability he can't afford, but here, with Izuku, whose face shines with all the hope in Shouto's heart, he lets himself go as his eyes flutter shut and he leans in.

Rain is falling in sheets now and somewhere in the distance the low rumble of thunder echoes in their ears as their lips finally ifinally/i, meet and Shouto pours everything he has ever felt for Izuku into that one kiss.

Their first kiss had been full of sorrow. A first and last wrapped into one. A promise they'd never wanted to make.

This time, sitting together on the roof as the world storms around them, is a beginning. A promise rewritten through years of wanting and never having. Izuku's mouth is insistent against Shouto's as his hands move to Shouto's cheeks, cradling them gently. Shouto sighs and wraps his arms around Izuku's waist, holding him tight, assuring them both that they could have this.

The thunder is getting louder and the first bright crack of lightning startles them enough to break the kiss. The rain is almost painful now, but Izuku is laughing even as tears continue to track down his cheeks and Shouto watches him, a rare smile of his own splitting across his face.

"I love you, too." He says, and Izuku meets his gaze with tenderness.

A widening smile is his only response as Izuku leans over to press his cold, wet lips to Shouto's cheek. Shouto doesn't miss the violent shiver that wracks Izuku's body as he leans away.

There is more to say, there is always more to say, but it can wait until they were warm and cozy and wrapped up in one another.

With a sigh, Shouto crawls through the window, moving carefully over the soaked shingles, and holds his left hand out for Izuku whose teeth are clenched tight together as he tries to hide his discomfort.

"C'mon," Shouto says as Izuku takes his hand gratefully. "Let's warm you up."

Shades of green and gold stare back at him as though he had been the one to hang the moon.

Which is ridiculous; Shouto doesn't need the moon, not when he has the love of a man who outshines the sun.

(A/N: I've been editing some oldish one-shots that I wrote as part of a prompt game with Zu (xx-theskyatdawn-xx on tumblr), and realized I never posted them here. Soooo hopefully this will tide us over until I've got the next chapter of As I Live and Breathe up!)


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